Answer:
What is it that was given to you, belongs only to you. And yet your friends use it more than you do?
Plow and hoe, reap and sow, What soon does every farmer grow?
Two little holes in the side of a hill. Just as you come to the cherry-red mill.
Screaming, soaring seeking sky. Flowers of fire flying high. Eastern art from ancient time. Name me now and solve this rhyme.
By Moon or by Sun, I shall be found. Yet I am undone, if there's no light around
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